


Couch Leave

by ChimaeraKitten



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen, No editing we die like mne, Star Trek as Fiction, bonding over TV, fluff and a little bit of crack, gratuitous headcanons, projecting my own knee sprain onto damian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 05:32:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18204191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChimaeraKitten/pseuds/ChimaeraKitten
Summary: Damian and Tim have a bonding moment over old TV.





	Couch Leave

**Author's Note:**

> has continuity with “Numb” An older damian and cass story by me. You don’t have to read that one to get this one at all. Set after Damian and Tim have had some relationship repair, but not enough that they’re seeking each other’s company or know quite how to interact normally.
> 
> also I want everyone to know that when I suggested the title for this fic Jersey said "THAT WAS ME WHEN I WATCHED 10 HOURS OF STAR TREK" so I think she's secretly a nerd (shhh don't tell anyone)

Damian swore softly when his crutches banged against the doorframe. He was used to moving around with far more grace than this.

He maneuvered the door open and managed to get through it with a sort of backwards hop and shuffle. It swung shut behind him. All he wanted--all he’d been wanting for the last forty five minutes while he’d lain on the floor with his leg up on a chair hoping the swelling would go down some—was to sit in the TV room and sketch while watching National Geographic documentaries. It was a childish urge, he knew, to hide away and indulge when injured, but Richard was always telling him to allow himself childishness.

The crutches made turning around to face the couch difficult, but Damian managed. He needn’t have bothered. Just a second after the door clicked shut behind him, he realized the TV was already on, and the back of a head visible over the couch.

“Can’t a guy get some peace in this damn house?” Drake's voice said. The TV paused. “Steph, I swear if it’s another prank thing—” He looked over his shoulder. Stopped. “Damian?”

“Drake.” Damian managed to say. “I was not aware this room was occupied. I will take my leave.” He started to shift his crutches again. The movement seemed to finally draw Drake’s eyes to them.

He blinked. “Woah, what the hell happened?”

“I sprained my knee.”

“Yeah, I can  _ see _ that,” Drake said, “what I meant was  _ how _ .”

“You are Richard and I went skiing over the weekend.” Damian said. “Even you must be capable of basic inference.”

“Yeah, but Dick texted me to brag about how you were a natural on skis and didn’t even fall over once after he first hour, so what’s with the crutches?”

Damian flushed and looked away “I was not… skiing, at the time.”

“What were you doing then? Climbing the cabin roof? Sledding? Did Dick throw you out of a tree?”

If possible, Damian flushed even worse. “I was… retrieving a meal. I did not pay the ‘wet floor’ sign the heed it required.”

Drake laughed. “Wait are you serious? You fell in the  _ lodge _ ?”

Damian desperately wished he had not come into this room. “I would not have said so if it were not the truth,” he snapped.

“No, sorry, I just— _ you _ ? Mr. Perfect-at-everything? Slipping on a wet floor? God that’s priceless. Wait till Steph hears.”

Damian stiffened the sketchbook edged between his crutch and his chest dug into his armpit. “I will be going.” He turned around.

“Wait—Damian. I’m sorry. You’re injured and I should be nicer.”

Damian stopped.  _ I would prefer it not take injury to motivate you. _ He thought and did not say.

“You, uh, you like to draw in here, right? You can come sit. I’ll be quiet. I’m just working while I watch some TV.”

Damian considered. Richard and father were always pushing him to interact more with Drake. Perhaps existing in the same room in silence would suffice. He had planned to watch his own choice of programing while he drew, but his documentaries usually faded to background noise once he became focused on his work. Whatever asinine program Drake was watching may function the same. He could retreat to his own room, but that necessitated a trip up the stairs.

And he did like working in this room.

He turned back around. “As long as you do not attempt to distract me while I work.”

Drake’s face twisted into an expression Damian couldn’t read. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

When Damian rounded the couch, he found it—surprisingly—clear of the paper clutter which usually surrounded Drake while he worked. Instead, Drake had only his laptop and a pair of discarded headphones.

It was a peculiarity for which Damian was nonetheless grateful, as it allowed him to sink into the couch without any complex rearrangement of papers. He leaned his crutches against the arm of the couch.

“I hope you don’t mind Star Trek.” Drake said, reaching for the remote. “I’d offer to let you pick but you never pay attention to the TV when you’re drawing anyway.”

Damian wondered when Drake became so familiar with his habits.

“Whatever you are watching is fine,” he said stiffly.

Drake hit play, then turned back to his laptop without another word.

Damian flipped open his sketchbook and arranged his pencils on the seat next to him. He glanced up at the TV. Usually he would draw whatever animal caught his fancy from the opening minutes of a documentary, but that option was obviously unavailable. Perhaps one of the actors would provide sufficient inspiration.

Something was strange, though. He was fairly certain he’d seen  _ Star Trek _ before, but this did not resemble it at all. He wondered if Drake had said the wrong title.

“What is this?”

Drake looked up. “It’s Star Trek? I thought I said that.”

Damian looked from Drake to the screen and back again. “This shares neither cast nor characters with the last film of that title I watched. The image quality is also significantly lower.”

Drake blinked at him. “This isn’t a film, it’s a TV show,” he said slowly, as if he thought Damian stupid. “An older TV show, though this is next gen so that’s more recent.”

Damian was beginning to wonder if Drake was stupid. “It was a film, previously,” he said, “Brown chose it for movie night because, quote, ‘Chris pine is cute.’”

Drake’s eyes widened. “Oh! You mean the reboot movies. This is the show.”

As Drake was obviously not going to be any more helpful for an explanation, Damian turned away. He would not continue to ask questions that would not be answered.

But before Damian could refocus on his sketchbook Drake shot up straight, nearly spilling his laptop onto the floor.

“Wait,  _ holy shit _ , are you telling me you only know Star Trek from the reboot movies!?”

Damian bristled. “If information about popular media were important for me to have, I would have it.”

Drake was no longer paying attention. “So Steph made us watch…you’ve seen 2009 and Into Darkness. Wait no you and Cass left for most of the second one...you came back for the end though. Oh my god. Oh my god how could I miss this.” He scrambled for the remote. “We have to start at the beginning. Oh my god how could we let Steph introduce you to  _ Trek _ through the  _ reboots _ . How did Bruce allow this.”

“My father—”

“Shhhh!” Drake said. “Netflix has these in the wrong order. Give me a second. “The pilot is ‘Where No Man Has Gone Before’, right? Wait you wouldn’t know that.”

“Drake—”

“The Original Series is like, ninety hours of television, so we can’t get you educated entirely today, but maybe before your knee is better.”

“Drake!”

Drake looked at him “What?”

“What are you  _ prattling _ about?”

Drake tilted his head to the side. “ _ Star Trek _ marathon, of course. We have to fix the gap in your education.”

Damian wondered if Drake had consumed exorbitant amounts of caffeine recently. “I have no desire to marathon an action series which requires me to ‘turn my brain off’ as Brown puts it.”

Rather than desiting as Damian had hoped, Drake grew even more frantic. “Steph is going to  _ pay _ for corrupting you,” he moaned, “it’s not—it’s not an action series. Not really. It can get pretty cerebral at times. You’ll probably like it.”

Damian was skeptical. It must have shown on his face, because Drake launched into another speech.

“It’s like,  _ super _ classic. Remember uh, remember that time Bruce said ‘illogical’ and Jason made fun of him all night? This show is why. It’s a bit of a product of its time but a lot of it is really good. Just give it a couple of episodes, you’ll see.”

“I have no particular desire to waste hours of my time on such a thing.” If he were not injured he would stand and leave, but getting off the couch would likely be a significant undertaking, and he still harbored hope that he would be able to draw.

“What else do you have to do? You’re laid up for a while, with that knee injury.”

“I can draw, as  _ I had intended to do. _ ”

Drake shook his head. “Look, everyone else really wants us to try to get along. Can you just try? You don’t have to talk to me at all, if you don’t want. I just…I honestly think you’ll like it.”

It was Damian’s turn to blink. Was it possible Drake was as aware of the reasons Damian had stayed? That he had attempted to use an easy, neutral situation in the same way Damian had?

“I will...give it a try.” If Drake could make the effort, so could he.

Drake managed a smile. “Keep in mind this first episode is the pilot. Well, second pilot. We’ll watch the first when you get to ‘The Menagerie.’ Some things change between this one and the next, but that’s just growing pains.”

It seemed that Drake’s continued rambling was due to excitement rather than nervousness. Excitement over what?

Damian set his sketchbook down to indicate that—for now at least—he was paying attention to the television. “Please proceed.”

Drake hit play. Damian expected him to turn back to his laptop, but instead he closed it. Perhaps he wished to watch.

But throughout the episode, Drake watched  _ Damian _ as much as the show. It gave him the uncomfortable feeling of being tested. He has straighter and stiffer in response, schooling his face into a more blank expression. He did not want to react unfavorably. His knee ached. He focused very carefully on the details, looking to analyze whatever Drake seemed to think was likable about this show.

When the episode finished, Drake paused it before the autoplay could start the next one, then returned to the menu to scroll to an episode later in the Netflix list.

“So, thoughts?”

“It was scientifically inaccurate with low budget effects.” Damian said.

Something flashed across Drake’s face, but he smiled sarcastically. “Oh, is that all?”

Damian knew by now that such a question was rhetorical.

“Just give it one more.”

Damian nodded. This whole endeavor was proving to be uncomfortable, but he could endure another hour if he must.

Drake continued to watch him.

Damian continued to sit stiffly.

The time seemed to tick by slower and slower.

To Damian’s surprise, Drake paused the episode less than fifteen minutes in. “You’re super tense, is your knee hurting?”

“It is not.”

Drake paused the tv. He seemed to shrink in on himself. “You can go, then. Or draw, I guess.”

Damian hid the sting of hurt. He hated tests with unclear parameters. They were nearly impossible to satisfy. He reached for his crutches. “My...apologies. I do not know what I did wrong.”

He didn’t mean to say that last part.

“You...what?” Drake asked, “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

So Drake had made an arbitrary decision that he no longer wanted Damian’s company, as he always did.

“This was a poor idea.” Damian levered himself off the couch, keeping his weight off his bad leg and not looking at Drake.

“I didn’t—I just wanted to share something with you!” Drake snapped. “It’s not my fault you didn’t like it!”

Damian furrowed his brow. “I have formed no significant opinion either way as of yet.” The show had potential, but Damian had reserved judgement as instructed.

“Then—wait, why are you leaving?”

“Because you told me to?” It came out as a question. It was not meant to be.

“What? No, I was just saying you could leave if you weren’t enjoying it. That’s all. I just… it would be cool if you enjoyed it, but you don’t have to.”

Damian turned around. “You were watching me as if you required a specific reaction.”

Drake frowned. “What? No, I just...I wanted to see what you thought. I’ve never gotten to watch this with someone who hasn’t seen it before. It’s exciting. I’ve, um.” He looked embarrassed. “I’ve always wanted to share this with someone new.”

Drake, excited to share something with  _ him _ ?

“Just—sit back down. I’ll try to watch you less if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Damian sat.

Drake hit play.

True to his word, Drake watched the screen more than Damian this time, and Damian found himself relaxing. At one point, Drake opened his laptop and appeared to look some sort of list up before closing it again. The idea of this episode—bluff stacked against bluff—was, he admitted, intriguing.

At the end of it, Drake glanced sidelong at Damian, but didn’t ask for his thoughts. All he said was, “Another?”

Damian nodded.

* * *

After the next episode, Damian asked, “she...was able to change her appearance through force of willpower?”

“I dont think it’s supposed to make sense.” Drake replied, and selected another episode.

* * *

“This is...uncomfortable.”

“Yeah I never liked this one so much.”

* * *

“Why would a creature need such massive quantities of salt?”

“Dunno. Wanna watch one more tonight? The next one’s a good one.”

Damian looked out the window, startled. It was already fully dark outside. He lifted his legs onto the couch so he could lay out bit and rest his knee even more. “I suppose.”

* * *

“So,” Drake began, when he paused on the end credits, “Since you sat through more than five hours of it, can I assume you liked it a bit?” He was hesitant to ask the question.

“I—yes, it is intriguing.”

Drake grinned. “Favorite character?”

Damian fidgeted. After that last episode… “I like First Officer Spock,” he admitted.

Drake gasped, but his offence seemed mocked rather than real. “He’s my favorite too. I think he’s just about everyone’s favorite.”

Damian flushed. “It is interesting that he feels so ashamed of himself, despite all evidence to his accomplishments.”

Drake shrugged. “Insecurity. They elaborate on that more later. Like when his parents visit.”

“His parents visit?”

“Oh yeah it’s a great episode. His mom—her name is Amanda Grayson and she’s kind of a badass. And it’s awesome.”

The door behind then opened and Richard’s voice drifted in. “Did I hear my name?”

Drake shook his head and gestured to the still-paused TV. “Talking about Spock’s mom. We’ve been watching Star Trek.”

“We?”

Damian sat up.

Richard's mouth dropped open in surprise at seeing him, then stretched wide into a grin. “Bonding over campy sci fi, huh? I’ll leave you to it.”

Damian shook his head. “We are finished for the night. Six episodes is enough.”

“Six, really?” Richard seemed delighted. “You must’ve really enjoyed it.”

Damian did not dignify that with an answer.

“You know, I think it runs in the family. Alfred has a starfleet tea set somewhere, and I think Bruce has a T-shirt signed by half the TNG cast. He claims it was for a charity thing but I’m not so sure.” Richard leaned on the back of the couch. “Which series are you watching?”

“The ‘Original Series’ or so Drake informs me,” Damian said, “my father likes this?”

Richard nodded. “It goes farther back than him, even. Grandma Martha was quite the trekkie, back in the day.”

Drake looked up. This was news to him, too. “Wait, really?”

“I found some of her old ‘zines from the 70s in the attic when I was younger. I had to ask Bruce what ‘the premise’ was.”

Drake laughed. Damian resolved to ask Richard to explain the joke later.

“Anyway, since you’re not still busy, I’m here to make sure Dames eats dinner and then gets up the stairs okay.”

It was code for ‘doesn’t sneak into the cave.’

“Have fun.” Drake said with an eye roll.

“Oh we will. I got enough Chinese for three, if you want to join us.”

Drake looked between them, thought for a moment, then said, “rain check. I’ve got to do some of the work I’ve been putting off.”

Richard didn't take offense. “Suit yourself. C’mon Dames, I got all your favorites.”

Damian maneuvered himself into a standing position and collected his sketchbook and crutches. Richard went to hold the door.

“Hey, Damian?” Drake was unsure, but he plowed on regardless. “Since I have a lot more work and you’re going to be laid up at least a few more days…” He lost confidence.

Damian breathed in. “We could watch more tomorrow?”

Drake smiled. “Yeah, sure. Let’s. Oh, and Damian? It’s probably best to just tell everyone else you had a ski accident. I won’t share the details. For now.”

Damian found himself smiling back, just a little. He hummed the show’s opening theme on his way out.

**Author's Note:**

> Gratuitous use of my own headcanons. I think Tim probably watched a lot of old Trek reruns when he was alone at home as a kid, and even though he’s found other people who like it, he’s never really gotten to share it with someone before, so this is special. It’s why he’s in such a good and playful mood by the end there.
> 
> The fact that I am currently on a star trek kick or that my knee is currently propped up on my desk with ice on it because ski boots and lodge floors are evil has nothing to do with the contents of this fic. Nothing at all. What are you saying “projecting” what do you mean. that’s not a real thing.
> 
> They watch, in order, the episodes “where no man has gone before” the “corbomite maneuver” “Mudd’s women” “The enemy within” “the man trap” and “The naked time” which are the first six (except for the first pilot) by production order according to IMDB, rather than the first six by airdate, which is how netflix sorts them  
> Damian always liked spock, but he really relates to spock seeing emotion as weakness in that “the naked time” in particular
> 
> ~~Martha was a trekkie because why the heck not~~


End file.
